LOKI: God of Mischief (One Shot)
by Katniss O
Summary: RATED M: FOR SENSITIVE SUBJECTS: SEX, NUDITY, SMUT, RAPE, GORE, BONDAGE ECT. This is about you, in first person. After seeing the Avengers fail, you are taken to a strange world with an apparent King of Chaos. Who is he? Why me? Dominate/ Submissive story traits, enjoy. Leave a review if you enjoy it! :)


Setting: Avengers when Loki tries to take over the world: he wins and in turn is king because he defeated everyone in his way. This is a dark, sexually explicit, smutty story. Read at own will, ok? Enjoy! :)

Back Story:

It was a dark day, I remember like it was yesterday. The skies rained down frost like people by the thousands and everyone was dying around me. The Avengers were defeated, barley able to breath and I stood as a viewer for it all. Seeing them fall took the breath out of me and I recall running as fast as I could to see if Thor was ok, his breath soft and his skin was cold. I began screaming, crying, and begging him to talk to me but he fell silent. Before I could think about what was going on and how much pain my emotional state was in I felt a harsh grab on the back of my shoulders and then the chilling whisper of a slippery voice crawl past my ear,

"Where are your Avengers now?" And then in a rush of sharp pain, everything went black.

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I awaken in an elegant room, walls and furniture of gold line it all. Where am I? Why am I here? What is this beautiful place? As I glance around the golden room, I notice my clothes have been changed into a rather silky, Roman looking rope... Or dress. This thought scares me and I jump a little, _who changed my clothes?_ This is now all too real, I make my way to the nearest door when suddenly a cold voice stops me in my tracks,

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said. I look toward the sound and see a man with long black hair sitting with his arms spread over a gold couch and a glass in his hand. He plays playfully with the glass, twirling it while examining me, "I mean, I just got you here," he said with a devilish grin.

"What?! You? Who are you? What do you-" Suddenly, he appears in front of my eyes; placing his finger over my mouth as to say _shush. _All becomes quiet as his stonic eyes look into my soul.

"I am Loki, King of Asgard, God of Chaos."

I look at him questionably and remember the stories I would hear of Thor's brother. Thor never wanted me to meet him... "You mean Mischief?"

"Mischief... Chaos..." he smiles that same dark smile again toward me, not breaking stance or eye contact, "Same thing." He lets his finger off my face and begins to slowly walk away, I take a few steps toward the opposite wall.

"What do you want with me?"

"Nothing," he sighs in the distance.

"Then let me go?"

He begins to laugh and shake his head in a rather condescending way, "Oh, you mortals are so entertaining when you _beg._"

"I'm serious," I choke out. He turns and raises an eyebrow staring at me emotionlessly,

"_Beg for me,_"

"I said I am serious." Suddenly I feel a slam as I find myself now pinned to the wall with a posing, grinning Loki against my body. I can feel my skin tremble as his smirk breathes in the air around my neck until he becomes parellel to my face.

"So am I."

I now realize just how dangerous he could be and I struggle to make any move, his grin stretches ear to ear, seeing me waste all my energy to try and squirm but be motionless by the power of a god. "Please," I say with a cracking voice, "Let me go."

"No."

He begins trailing his cold lip down my neck as I feel my eyes burst with tears. I think he enjoys watching others suffer because he glanced up to see me crying and he breathed in a lustful sigh. I can feel a tug on my silk dress with a sharp object, he looks up rather amused into my eyes,

"Say my name." I do not. He then takes me hair in his fist and says it again, "Say me name." I ignore it. With the flick of the wrist, I am slammed into the floor; unable to move with all my might as if I had been glued. I am forced to look up at this man dressed in green sitting upon me, _"Say my name."_

In a helpless whimper, I whisper out, "_Loki." _He smiles and begins to effortlessly sherd the silk from my body, I lay still as I stare into his eyes. Completely exposed, he positions himself above me; arms on each side of my face supporting his body from the ground. He looks down on me with a small glimmer in his eyes and a dagger in his hand...

"Say my name..."

"Loki," I whisper. He begins to slowly rip the skin on my chest with the tip of his dagger and I cry out in pain, this excites him and he stabs the floor next to my head to hold his dagger.

He starts to scream, holding my body below him, "Say my name!"

I crack my voice again, "...Loki."

"Are you ready to get fucked by a god?" No I wasn't. "Say my name," he screams while pushing himself into me. In a instant of pain and surprise tears fall down my face and I find myself screaming his name.

He moves fast and rough, in between my tears I see him smirking in delight and hear him groaning in pleasure. Banging my body like a despicable toy, I can feel the weight of a god push into me with no remorse, he grins while looking at me in the eyes again, nails digging into my sides.

"Loki..." I cry out.

"Such an obedient _pet_."

He then places his hands on my wrists, pumping as fast as light, I mistakenly and uncontrollably cry out his name. He does not stop, he goes faster until he himself has to shout. He then himself out and without hesitation, waves his hand making my arms free while he sits me down to his level. I am looking down between his thighs and wanted to say something in protest of out of fright but it was cut short by his hands forcing his member into my throat. I could not gasp, cry, or breathe. All i could hear was him moaning as he slammed himself into me at a brutal, harsh pace. He began to move my head faster and faster, crying out obscenities until he stopped and my throat was drenched with his self.

He pulled himself out as his liquid oozed out of my mouth and down my chest, I now started to cry. As if he was a monster with a mask, he began to look at me with emotion and a sudden empathy. His hands moved in a rhythmic way over me and my body was cleaned up of his mess as well as the dress not being torn off, "I-I'm sorry." he takes my hand and looks deeply into my eyes with sincere eyes, "I just thought this would make you like me," he smirked, "It works for every other woman."

"Being liked is not your thing.."

"True, but either way you're mine," he then places his cold lip upon mind; forcing them to fight with his while he hisses another few words, _"Who needs to be liked when you can be feared?"_

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